My grandfather passed away 16 years ago on March 16th 1987. He was buried a week later on March 23rd, which just happened to be my Grandma's birthday. I'm pretty darn sure that was the worst birthday she ever had. I was too young to absorb any of that. I just remember being very angry with God for taking my grandfather away from me. Ironies of ironies, I remember riding my bike around the block in anger and I finally stopped in a parking lot to cry/yell at God. Turns out I was in the parking lot of the funeral home by my parents' house. Looking back on it now, it strikes me as funny. I was 8. 8 year olds do funny things that amuse their old selves many years later.
Next up came the death of my Gram. Once again, March got the dubious honour. March 7th 2006 to be exact. 16 days before her 89th birthday. Atleast it didn't happen on her birthday. That would have been like a double curse or something.
March got a bit of a reprieve last year as my darling niece was born in late March. A blessing indeed.
But as of this weekend, March is back in dubious territory. My mom's best friend's mother passed away on Saturday. While her passing does fall into the territory of being a blessing as she's now at peace, it's still hard on the family, no matter how prepared they think they are. I'm usually fantastic with words and speaking but death is the one time that I find it hard to find the words, or better yet, the right words. When my great-grandmother Watson and my Gram died, it was a blessing. My great-grandma had checked out years before and was just a shell who happened to still be breathing. My Gram wasn't much better when she went. She knew that her time was near and she wanted to go. She was ready. In both cases, they'd been without their husbands for a very long time. I guess they were both over due for a reunion. Death brought them both peace. I hole heartedly believe that they both went on to a much better place than the one they'd found themselves in here. I know it was for the best. But it still doesn't stop the paid and grief of their passing from happening.
Memories are funny things. I hardly knew my grandfather (we called him Cooch because he loved trains...get it? Choo-choo train?). I didn't even know him for a quarter of my life, yet I'll see something or hear something or smell something and thoughts/memories of him will come flooding back to me. I'm almost positive that he's the reason I like trains so much. I love it when my Uncle David comes to visit and he and my mom start telling stories about Chooch. I hardly knew him so hearing their stories helps bring him back to life for me, so I can get another chance at getting to know the great man that he was. It's when I'm working on my genealogy research that I really wish he was still here. His side of the family has been a real pain in the butt to trace and I could really use his knowledge. That's just one of my many reasons why we should never take our elderly for granted. They're walking, talking pieces of history and there is so much that they can teach us.
Now, this next revelation might make some of you think I'm totally nuts, but while I know that they're gone, I'm pretty sure that both my great-grandma Watson and my Gram come to visit me from time to time. It's not a scary thing. It's actually quite comforting and it usually makes me smile. Sometimes it's just a feeling I get, like I'm not alone but I'm not worried or scared so I know that someone familiar is here. Sometimes I keep catching something from the corner of my eye and when I look, it's gone. I have a photo of my Gram hanging off a hook on my corner shelf. Every now and then, I'll look over and the photo is swinging on the hook. Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot and there's no draft, no large trucks having gone down the street, no vibrations from my walking around. Just little things like that. They just remind me that even though they're not here, they still love me and are with me. Which is true. No one ever really leaves if you keep their memory in your heart.
Oh! And Julius Caesar died in March too. March 15th, 44 BC or so history believes. I guess March wasn't a good month for him either.
Good Night!
Sarah
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